The Color Fred
by theNEWanias
Summary: Fred's dirty secret somehow gets into Angelina's hands. George's smokin' oneliners are floating all around Hogwarts. The twins are a wreck, and Angelina has to fight with her worst opponent to help them: herself. TWINCEST. RnR if you love me or the story.
1. Why Do We Like To Hurt?

Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over ANY characters...although if I _did_ own the Weasley Twins...

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One: Notes

Fred twitched as the slightest gust of wind ghosted the back of his neck. His lips pursed as he tried hard to ignore the feeling of paper brushing against his knuckles. He ground his teeth when he felt the enchanted paper-bird nip him. He wanted so badly to just tear the thing apart, but he knew better. He grabbed it with more force than was necessary and unfolded it. Written across the mostly-blank piece of parchment in Angelina Johnson's tiny handwriting was the following sentence:

_When are you going to tell him?!_

Fred sighed miserably; when was she going to lay off? Wasn't it bad enough that she knew in the first place? Did she really have to torture him?

He dipped his quill in the inkpot on his desk and scrawled a very untidy reply.

_never _

He watched with amused satisfaction as the bird transformed into a paper bludger and landed violently on Angelina's desk. She read the note and sneered. About thirty seconds later, the bird was back, and this time it bit Fred's finger hard enough to leave a severe paper-cut. "Ow!" he shook his hand and licked the injured finger, getting spots of blood on the paper as he unfurled it.

Wimp 

_This is ridiculous_, thought Fred. He scribbled back,

Am not! 

to Angelina, and sent the bird on its way. She caught it and just shook her head at him; he ignored it.

Then, "Fred, what're you guys arguing about now?" George asked. He was getting fed up with this Angelina vs. Fred thing. It was amusing the first five times…now it was just stale.

"Oh, nothing of great importance." He said, wishing with all his heart that it were true.

"If you're sure." George said before giving Fred a pat on the hand. Fred shivered.

_I'm never sure_, thought Fred.

Angelina didn't know how much more she could take: watching her fellow Gryffindor; her Quidditch teammate; her _friend_ torture himself like this was awful. And yet, he was just so stubborn – _so stupid_! She thought. You see, Angelina knew Fred's secret: he was gay…and he was in love. She wasn't sure just yet as to _whom_ he was in love with, but right now, she only wanted to see him happy. He was moping and sulking and being in a way that is as unhealthy for a Weasley Twin to possibly be.

She had come to find out that Fred was gay through a very complicated series of events that is best left to the short version: at some point during class, she had been sitting next to Fred and George. George was being his usual spacey self, jotting down ideas for new Weasley's Wheezes stuff, while Fred had his textbook open. By no means was he paying attention, though. No, he had a smaller book opened up behind his schoolbook, and was writing fervently with some special, glittery ink.

I see the sunrise in your eyes;

On a bright summer's day, they're like sparkling waves.

On a cold winter night, I can count on those eyes

For warmth and light.

In the dark when I'm afraid, I think of those eyes

And know I'm safe.

You're such a beautiful boy: how can we be so…

"_Fred_! What are you _writing_?" She whispered.

Fred almost toppled out of his seat, "Stop looking at it!"

"No!" A fight ensued where they were quietly trying to have possession over Fred's book. And of course, somebody had to notice.

"Mr. Weasley! Ms. Johnson! What _are _you doing?" Professor McGonagall strode over to the pair of them and gave them one of her sternest looks.

Fred was holding the book in the air, up and away from her when Angelina replied, "Professor, he took my diary!" she pointed at the scandalized redhead, whose blue eyes widened to the size of tea saucers.

"I did not!" But of course, not wanting to admit the diary was his, he was forced to give it to Angelina, who took it into her arms with glee.

"As it is," said McGonagall, "You shouldn't be writing in it in class, Ms. Johnson. And Mr. Weasley, I expect more gentlemanly behavior, even from you. Detention with me tonight, here in my office."

Fred groaned and did a face-plant onto his desk; Angelina shrugged and stuffed the diary into her bag to be looked at later.

She spent her entire study hall reading the diary: clearly, Fred was crushing on someone – a boy, at that – but he never _once_ wrote the name in there. Not once! It was maddening, really, trying to figure out who this mystery boy was. The only clue she really had was that his eyes were blue.

_But that could be anyone!_ She thought. And it was certainly true. There was no mention of how old this person was, nor any other physical details: hair color, height, nothing. Only Fred's apparently "Undying love" love for this boy. Angelina didn't mind that Fred was gay…in fact, she sort of thought it was cute. And this lucky boy would never know. Then again, maybe Fred was crushing on a straight guy. Maybe that's why he hadn't told this mystery guy yet: because it would just be worse.

That night in detention, Angelina gave Fred his diary back.

"Have a good read?" he asked angrily.

"I'm rather disappointed in you, Fred." She kept her smile intact. "I would have expected more description from you. Very poetic, though." She patted him on the back before returning to her bucket of water: they were cleaning the Transfiguration classroom _without_ magic. Angelina was currently working on the windows.

"Very _pathetic_ is more like it, really." Said Fred, plunging his arm into a bucket of warm, soapy water.

"Why haven't you asked the boy out yet?" she asked.

"Because, I don't think he'd like it too much." Fred said as he washed down the sill. "He's not even gay that I know of."

"Maybe I could figure out if he's gay or not…_if_ you tell me who it is."

Fred spluttered, laughing into the water. "Pa-_leese_! Angie, you have some of the dullest gay-dar I've ever seen!"

She blushed. "I do not!" she waited a moment before adding, "Just because I asked out Ron doesn't mean I miss it every time!"

Fred could no longer control his laughter.

"What?" She protested, "Ron is a very masculine sort of gay." She said. This just made Fred laugh harder, and before detention was over, they were both clutching their sides with mirth.

So now she had been nagging Fred for the last two months, as well as attempting to figure out who his crush was. It was daunting, but it kept her on her toes. She _had_ narrowed it down to another Gryffindor though, and sure – that might not _seem_ like such a huge dent, but it really, really is. That was literally one fourth of the castle's residents. To add to that, since Fred was gay, that made it about half of the Gryffindors.

She'd soon find out who it was, and when she did, it would mark the start of a race inside her head: the contestants would be Guilt and Good-Conscience.

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A/n: as usual, reviews equal love!...and another chapter of course. 


	2. This Is What I Get For Loving You

Two: Crush

George's heartbeat picked up as he watched Fred dress down for bed. He hated himself right now. It was a very hard position to be in when one is in love with one's own twin brother. George wasn't gay – he wasn't even _bi_. Fred seemed to be the only boy he liked, and that made the whole situation worse: he had yet to tell anyone. If it weren't for the fact that Fred _was_ his boy-crush, he would have told…well, Fred.

He thought about telling Lee, but then he'd have to lie: he'd have to say that he was bi or gay or something, because he figured that if he told Lee he was in love with only _one_ guy – that not all dudes had this effect on him – Lee would probably want to know who the hell it was. He was unnervingly curious like that.

George would lay awake at night, staring at the top of his four-poster; he would make things up. Sometimes fantasies, sometimes poems, but mostly pictures. He never wrote anything down; he never drew what he saw. This was out of his fear of someone finding it: that would be the death of him, or so he thought.

Eventually though, he found a way to express his unthinkable desires without revealing either himself or his object of affection. He would take excess parchment and write one-liners, sometimes a few at a time and leave them signature-less.

_I'd rather waste my time pretending_.

And George's favorite:

_Crush_♥

o0o

There were often times where Angelina didn't know quite what to make of the twins. Today was one of those cases. Fred was scribbling away in his diary and George seemed to be even spacier than usual. Hoping for something entertaining, she leaned over and peeked into the diary – Fred knew, he just didn't care anymore:

_I've got too much to say to you: I've got a confession to make. _

_All the rumors you heard are true and I'm in love with you. _

_I'm ripping the tape off of my mouth: expose these lies inside my mind. _

_Rip the tape off of your mouth: go ahead and get mad – I deserve every bad thought. _

_(Redhead crush, but not who you thought it was.)_

_Nothing compares to how I feel around him. _

_I just don't want to admit that I am wrong. "That never happened." _

_I guess I'm lying again – let's be more than just friends. _

_He knows how to play my favorite game: the game of anonymous – always lame. _

_I never thought of her like this because she never gave me everything I needed. _

_He took over my mouth; scratched the lies out of my eyes – he satisfies. _

_He took over my heart; scratched your name out of my mind – you're left behind. _

_(Redhead crush, but not who you thought it was.)_

_Nothing compares to how I feel around him. _

_I just don't want to admit that I am wrong. "That never happened." _

_I guess I'm lying again – let's be more than just friends._

_I'm stuck with you – a quiet evening alone. Just my luck, too, _

_Because you turn me on. Nothing will happen – I wish my dreams would come true. _

_We'd be more than friends. _

"Very pretty, Fred." She whispered.

A noise of faint acknowledgement.

"Another redhead?" she chirped. Fred froze. He went to scratch it out, but she stopped him. "No. It's good like that." She turned away and left Fred to look at her with wide eyes. Meanwhile…

George wasn't just spacing out; he was drawing…well, doodling fit the description better. He'd taken a blank piece of parchment and had started to let his quill wander wherever it wanted to. A dash of ink here…a strong stroke there…a few dots over where? Everywhere. When he looked down to see what he'd made, there it was:

♥_Fred_.

This gave him an idea…

Later that day, Angelina came running up to the Twins, who were sitting – per usual – together in the library. She slowed down as soon as soon as Madame Pince gave her a clearly threatening look.

"Fred! Look!"

Fred's expression of laughter slowly turned into curiosity. "What is it, Angie?"

"I found this lying around on the floor of one of the corridors." She handed the redhead a piece of scuffed paper upon which was written, _"Fred Weasley: hot? A certain boy thinks so." _

"What the –" Fred stifled a curse so he wouldn't be thrown out of the library. "You found this _lying around_? In a corridor? Where _anyone_ could see it?"

"Yeah." Angelina dismissed in her mind the fact that George seemed unperturbed by this piece of news. "That means somebody _knows_!"

Fred shot her a look that screamed _duh_: "YA' THNINK?"

o0o

Having been 'escorted' from the library by a very angry Madame Pince, the three of them decided to spend the remainder of the free period in the Common Room. Fred and George, having nothing but time on their hands, reclined on the chairs while Angelina thought out the possibilities in her mind.

Fred was by no means relaxed; he was fidgety, he was jumpy, and he was very much afraid for himself. He couldn't seem to convince himself that this was all someone joking around. Somebody _knew_…

Just then, George piped up. "Fred, let me see that note."

Hardly trusting his gut feelings, Fred handed the scrap to his brother.

George didn't even look at it: he knew what it said. So, pretending to be mildly shocked, he said, "Fred, do you think this is serious?"

"No," Fred was lying through his teeth, "Probably just someone playing games."

George couldn't help but feel just a tad stung. "Ok, but assuming this note was to be taken seriously, would you?"

Fred looked puzzled, "Would I what?"

"Would you see about this guy?" George was hiding himself very well from Fred…Angelina on the other hand had just become very interested in George Weasley.

"Did you seriously just ask me if I'm gay?"

"I never said that." George forced his voice to be mellow and methodical. "I was just wondering: have you ever given other guys a thought?"

Suddenly, a voice came floating through the portrait hole. "You'd know all about that, George – if Fred's thinking it, you know about it, right?" Lee Jordan was beaming as he strode over to where the three friends had gathered.

"Funny, Lee." Said Fred. He only _wished_ he could read George's thoughts. They once had staged a prank based on the idea that they had twin-kinesis…it went over so well that it almost convinced the pranksters.

"At any rate," said George, "I was just asking."

"Well…once or twice," Fred lied. "But it was out of sheer curiosity."

"Doesn't matter if you _were_ gay," said Angelina, touching her hand to Fred's shoulder to let him know.

"Yeah," added Lee, "You'd still be our friend."

"Obviously." George rolled his eyes, a Cheshire Cat grin dominating his face.

"But just so you know, I think that piece of paper is just the beginning of a trail." Said Lee. He handed Fred another small scrapped piece of parchment. This one read, _"Have I told you?"_

Fred's mouth went dry.

George smiled as he watched his plan unfold.


	3. Where Did I Go Wrong?

A/n: sorry guys, for the loooooong delay oO. I was, er...on the mend, if you will. But I'm alright now so here's a long anticipated chapter. sorry for the shortness :( I'll have more next time!

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Three: The Five Magic Words

"Maybe it will go away," Fred mumbled over his breakfast, ignoring the sound of paper being ripped to shreds echoing throughout the Great Hall. He never got much mail, and he didn't mind – if he _were_ to receive, say, a package or even a letter, it would be Errol who'd be delivering it, and that was the very last thing he needed: an unconscious owl in his cereal bowl.

"What was that, Fred?" Said Lee cheerfully: he'd just discovered that his parcel from home contained several chocolate frogs and a box of Bertie Bot's Every-Flavor Beans.

"I said," he looked up from his untouched food, "maybe it will go away." He let his voice drift into the air, sinking under the heavy crackle of parchment and paper.

Lee let out an impatient sigh. "Just figure out who it is, make up your mind, and get on with your life!"

"Did you ever imagine that maybe it's not that easy, Lee?" Angelina cut in. "That maybe, Fred's got a hard enough time trying to decide whether he likes guys or not?" She was defending him because she knew his secret. "And did it ever possibly cross your narrow mind that he could be thrown into serious trauma by this…"

"I appreciate your efforts, everyone," said Fred, glancing at George, who had been uncharacteristically silent, "but please, do me a favor, and shut up." He had braced both elbows against the table so that he could hold his head on each side, rendering his headache a little less painful.

"Just trying to help." Said Lee.

o0o

After breakfast, the twins, Lee, and Angelina all had History of Magic together. The four of them sat in back so they could pass notes without being caught.

_What if it's George?_

The note landed precariously on Fred's left hand. He cocked his head and stared, then magically erased the ink and scribbled back,

_What if it's George what?_

He passed the note under the table to Angelina, who upon reading it scrunched her face up into a frown. She scrawled quickly back,

_What if it's George writing those notes we've been finding…you know, all over the castle?_

They'd found three more, all of them aimed at Fred. This time, when Fred read the note, he scowled and snorted in his disbelief.

_You're crazy: George is my brother…my twin. He can't like me that way._

Angelina:

_But you're his twin, and you like him that way._

This time, Fred did not reply. He just sat and scowled ahead had his ghostly teacher, Professor Binns. The rest of the class went by without either of them noticing George passing Lee a note of his own:

_Lee…it's me. I'm writing those notes about Fred._

_P.s. Don't say a word!!_

o0o

"You _have_ to tell him!" Lee practically shouted. George winced.

"No, I don't. I really don't." George looked at Lee suspiciously. He was starting to wonder if he should have kept that bit of information to himself.

"Yes you do – you _really_ do! You're putting your brother through hell! I mean, what do you think you're doing?" Lee was pacing now. "Joking about stuff like that. That stuff's _serious_!" His big brown eyes were even wider than normal.

"Lee." George tried.

"Wow, George, I never would have guessed – I know you'll do anything for a laugh, but really, _anything_?"

"Lee." George raised his voice a little more, sounding incredibly agitated.

"God, I can't believe you would _do _something like that! And besides –"

"_LEE_!" George shouted, and Lee stopped his pacing altogether, abandoning his rant. "It's not a joke. I like my twin." George became silent as he stared at Lee's frozen, unreadable expression. "Sorry."

"Oh." Lee put his palm to his forehead and sank backwards onto his four-poster. "_Oh_!" He looked to his shoes for a few moments, silently pleading for advice on what to say next, and then looked up at George, a look of earnestness in his eyes. "George, you know what this means then, don't you?"

"No." George was doing his best to feign indifference.

"You really _do_ have to tell him."

George shuddered.

Meanwhile, Fred was having his own therapy session with Angelina in the library. "What should I do?" Fred whined, leaning heavily on a stack of books. _Maybe if I lean long enough, I'll sink into one of them_, he thought desperately.

"Ask him: it's the only thing for it." Her voice was bordering dangerously on mimicking Hermione's, and that was a scary prospect.

"But…but…_but!_" Fred stammered.

"No but's about it, Fred – you either find out or you don't."

"Why me?" He asked no one in particular as he tried once again to sink into a book.

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reviews equal love (and another chapter). 


	4. Why Didn't You Tell Me?

Four: Why Didn't You Tell Me?

The next few days were awkward: Fred and George sparsely spoke to each other, causing a lot of confusion in the hallways and classrooms: after all, the Weasley Twins – most notable, most cunning…most _together_ – not so much together, anymore. In fact, it seemed as though the two would do just about _anything_ to avoid each other…this of course was hard to do once it was time to go to class. Teachers, for all their intuitive ability, seemed blind to this new tension that hung low over the twins' heads whenever they were within three feet of one another.

Sitting next to each other was pure strain.

You're being ridiculous

The note came whizzing across the table and hit the arm of the twin next to her. He opened up the paper and read, then a look came over his face. He quickly wrote back,

What did _I_ do?

Angelina peered at the handwriting for a long time…it seemed…different, somehow. She shrugged it off and wrote back something to the effect of 'you KNOW what you did!' Again, there was a denial. They wrote back and forth, and after telling Fred he needed to tell George how he felt, she was given her wake-up call:

I'm not Fred, Angelina…I'm George.

_Oh crap_, she thought.

Later that day, George brought it up with Lee, who simply said he should act on it then. "If the two of you feel this way – granted, you're brothers but…it's not as if you can reproduce, so – you should tell him. Try to start something, even."

"I can't do that, Lee – there may be no physical danger, but God! What if it ruined us – then it would ruin the family!"

"Good point." Lee seemed put-off by being wrong. "But, I think you guys would get over it."

"You think?"

"I know." Lee's eyes glittered in the light of the fire, knowing, and for once in a long time, he looked serious.

"YOU DID _WHAT_?!" Fred shouted at Angelina over his homework; not plotting with George anymore had left him with too much time on his hands.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know!" Angelina already felt horrible – why did Fred have to be so mad? "I thought he was _you_!"

"You thought he was…my god, and you call yourself our friend?" Fred looked too flustered. His face was red, a light coat of sweat had begun to form on his brow, and his hands were shaking a tiny bit. "That's it. My life is over."

"Oh, it is not."

_Oh no_, thought Fred. That voice.

"Fred, we need to talk." It was George. He'd just come through the portrait hole.

"Must we? Can't we forget this whole thing? Please?"

"No, we can't. Now come on," and with that, George pulled his twin to his feet and dragged him up the staircase.

"This is gonna' be good," said Lee.

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A/n: WHOO for another chapter! review love!


	5. Did You Ever Wonder Why?

Five: Really?

If anything, it was lucky; it was lucky that Fred and George couldn't hear what was happening in the Common Room. They were taking bets.

"Look," said George. He was pacing and nervous, and not altogether as sure about this as he seemed. He'd planned out his speech beforehand of course, but it had seemed to have slipped from his brain and slithered out his ears somewhere down the line…. "I know. You know."

"_Angelina_ knows," Fred added testily.

"Obviously."

"I'm sorry, George, I don't know what's come over me, I'm sure it will –"

But Fred didn't get a chance to finish. "No, it's not going to pass, Fred. Not anytime soon, anyway."

"What? How do you –"

"I know. I get it. I feel it too." George stared at his brother's face, expression held in close regard. This was going to be a tricky business, to say the least. "I don't think something's entirely wrong with this, but nothing's entirely _right_ either."

Fred looked at his brother with a furrowed brow and slightly parted lips. "In a word, _duh_."

George sat down beside his brother, letting an arm slide around his shoulder. "Do us a favor, Fred?"

"Hmm?"

"Shut up," and this was followed promptly by a kiss. The kiss was followed by a deeper kiss…which was followed by several kisses, soon followed by something slightly _more_ than a kiss….

"_George_, are you – _mmm_ – sure this isn't…_god_…hurrying?" Fred wasn't really sure if this could be considered complaining, but he was trying. It was kind of difficult for anyone to complain when on the receiving end of a mouth like _that_.

"Mm-mm." And that was definitely a no.

"Alright…" said Fred, grabbing for some of the ginger hair below him, "if you say so…."

"You know," George said, linking his fingers with Fred's, "I'm glad you did this. I'm glad I know."

"Have I ever steered you wrong, my love?"

"…no."

"What's with the hesitation?" Fred's voice was joking still, but mildly alarmed.

"Nothing. Shut up and go to sleep."

"But. Can't we…?" Fred pleaded.

"No. That _would_ be rushing it." And with that, George fell asleep beside his twin.

...

Breakfast, the morning after, was an affair unto itself. Questions flew across the table as fast as the post owls; everyone within the tiny group was assaulting the twins with annoying quarries and gleeful accusations and would only shut up when the two boys admitted to what had really happened.

"Yeah, yeah, he blew me…but no sex!" Fred explained, frustrated and hungry.

What they failed to see was that a few seats down the Gryffindor table, Ron was smirking at Harry with his hand outstretched.

"Pay up, I won."

"Really, you two are so vulgar sometimes!" Hermione said, her eyes glued to a book beneath the table.

"At least _I_ won't be the one in the doghouse when Fred discovers his diary's gone missing again," Ron taunted and they all laughed at the sound of the book closing shut and sliding off of Hermione's lap.


End file.
